บททั้งหมดของ Being Yours : บทที่ 141 - บทที่ 150

‘You made me happy, Lynne. You made me laugh and enjoy life, despite all the tension I was under. I’d probably have been in a lot worse shape without you than with you.’ Especially if you hadn’t been pregnant, he didn’t say. ‘With Julia, the happiness was short-lived. I never felt I measured up to her expectations. Which, of course, was the case. She -’ Realizing Lynne hadn’t made a sound for several minutes, he asked, ‘Does it bother you, my talking about my marriage to her?’ Her only reply was a soft sigh, and he smiled, looked down and wondered how long she’d been asleep. He cradled her closer, and held her for another fifteen minutes, before sliding one hand under her knees and coming carefully to his feet, still holding her. ‘My bed or yours?’ he whispered, looking into her sleeping face. He knew whose bed he wanted to put her into, but knew just as well that if he did it, it might be the last time. It might ruin any chance he had of making headway with Lynne. Reluctantly, he

After a week and a half spending his mornings in the park and his afternoons oiling hinges, weeding vegetable gardens and other make-work projects he found for himself, Cliff was ready for a change. Change? He was ready to climb out of his skin! Dammit, he was bored! He glanced over at Lynne. Boredom was no problem for her. She sat on a blanket with Michael, trying to keeping him from wandering too far, getting up and chasing him when he did, both of them giggling and enjoying themselves. Cliff had a book with him, but he wanted something, anything, different from this. He wanted to go back to work. He wanted to talk to some men. He wanted to wish both Michael and Amanda on to another planet and take Lynne out to Galiano Island and make love to her for six days straight until neither of them could walk or talk or think. He did not want to be a friendly stranger who lived in rooms in her house, ate at her table, conversed in the evenings with three old ladies in the lounge, or Louisa

Cliff was far up the Coquihalla Highway before he realized it, driving with no destination in mind, just . . . driving. When he knew he could go no farther because fatigue blurred his vision, he pulled over and sat, head on the wheel, thinking, wondering where it had all gone wrong, what he’d done to screw things up again. If only he could tell Lynne the lie she so longed to hear. If only he could make himself believe that somehow, some kind of miracle had occurred and what she insisted was true was true. But... he could not. Presently, he turned his car and headed back toward the city of Vancouver. Hours later, as dawn broke, he was surprised to find himself parked outside the house where he had spent his first sixteen years. The drapes were drawn, the lawn neatly mowed, and a pickup truck was parked in the car-port with a ten-speed bike chained to a bolt in the wall beside the front steps. A basketball hoop hung high on the garage. A kid on a bike, broad strap of newspaper bag ac

Vincent Salazar’s eyes — and suddenly Cliff had no doubt that this was who the man was — darted to Lynne’s face as she stepped forward, her fingers clinging tightly to Cliff's. ‘What did you say, girl?’ he demanded in a rasping voice. Tension emanated from him; it was in his hunched stance, in his tght face, in his dark eyes under his thick brows. It paled his brown face, making his eyes seem even blacker. ‘What did you say?’ he asked again in a voice hardly more than a rough whisper. Lynne didn’t reply. She knew perfectly well the man had heard what she said. ‘How can you know that?’ Salazar barked abruptly, not moving an inch except to straighten, squaring his big shoulders, but suddenly seeming to fill the room with a menacing presence. Cliff stepped protectively in front of Lynne again, staring the man down. Lynne, refusing to let Cliff face this alone, slipped around him and lifted her chin as she said, ‘I know because, in seeing you, I see what my husband will be in another t

EPILOGUE 'Cliff, you’d better go wake your dad up and tell him we’re leaving.’ ‘Huh? What? Leaving? Where are we going?’ Cliff came instantly awake, if not instantly intelligent. ‘To the hospital, silly. Dr Baker said, when the contractions were five minutes apart, to call her and then to come in. I’ve called her and she’ll be there. waiting for us.’ He sat up in bed staring at her, stark terror on his face. ‘Lynne, now wait a minute. I don’t think! . can... I don’t know if I... Oh, my God! Now? Right now?’ Lynne nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, rocking back and forth for several long seconds while Cliff held her shoulders and prayed. Hard. ‘Go and wake up your dad,’ she said when she could breathe evenly again. ‘So he knows he has to listen for the kids and make them breakfast and stuff.” Vincent had insisted on spending the last three weeks of Lynne’s pregnancy with them for just that reason. When Cliff came back with a tall, straight and immediately alert Vincent in to